Have you ever felt like this?
by Captain101
Summary: Howard and Vince are together. This is a collection of fics that revolve around them and their 'firsts'. Naturally nothing goes to plan. But it's all adorably cute. Or that's the plan.
1. Enchanted 1st anniversary

**_Anniversary Fic_**

**_Howard and Vince have been going out for a year. First anniversary's are meant to be fun and sweet and all that jazz, yeah? Well Howard's got alot on his mind and forgets completely. Ooops. How're you gonna get out of this one, Howard? This was a prompt from LDNatalie. 3 Spammed everywhere, haha._**

**Disclaimer:** Nothing in this belongs to me, I'm just a girl playing with her dolls. Which really belong to Barratt and Fielding.

Vince looked up at the clock for the thirteenth time and his lip wobbled precariously. It was ten to nine; Howard should have been back hours ago. To be honest, Howard shouldn't have gone out at all. Weren't anniversaries meant to be fun? Hugging his knees Vince rested his forehead on his arms, trying not to let the tears rolling down his cheeks turn into anything stroppy and hysterical.

Howard had forgotten, that was all.

That's what hurt.

He'd spent hours fixing everything up, Naboo and Bollo had been successfully evacuated and he'd set up the little table in the lounge perfectly. He'd chilled the wine and the take out place was on red alert and speed dial. He'd stopped himself from putting any make up on, (which had taken more effort than you'd think) because Howard said he liked him better that way, and even set up the cd player with something cute and romantic Howard would like.

But it was now nine o'clock, and Howard still wasn't home.

Looking at the clock again, Vince sniffed.

Howard had forgotten their anniversary.

Some ten minutes later Vince stiffened when the bell rung downstairs in the shop, signalling that someone had come home, and those shoes on the stairs could only be one person.

Suddenly angry Vince got to his feet, and as Howard came up the last couple of stairs into the lounge his mouth dropped open and his gut clenched as he took in their furniture pushed aside, making room for a tiny little table surrounded by bright coloured cushions and lit by candles. The room was completely empty, accentuated by the sound of their bedroom door slamming closed.

"Oh no," Howard whispered, nervously taking a step further into the flat. Vince's colour coordinated plates and bowls became obvious, the careful contrast of red placemats on brown wood and the distinct order in the carefully scattered cushions, but Howard's heart dropped at the sight of the still burning candle, flickering dangerously as wax dripped onto the table. It was almost completely burned down.

How long had Vince been waiting for him?

Nervously, Howard approached their bedroom door, it was quiet inside and Howard sighed. Vince hated him.

"Vince," nothing, so he tried again.

"Vince, Vince please." He waited, opening his mouth to try again before a muffled answer echoed through the door.

"Piss off."

"Vince, I'm sorry,"

"I said 'piss off'," came the reply.

Howard sighed, glancing across the room at the clock. He knew he'd forgotten something, except he'd thought it had something to do with Lester. When he'd asked Naboo what was happening that night the reply had been that Vince had something on, leaving Howard free to go around to Lester's or wherever he damn well pleased.

Feeling suitably annoyed with himself and rather stupid in equal measure, he crossed the room and blew out the candle, watching as the smoke wafted into nothing.

He had to make it up to Vince that was sure, and he'd have all night to think of it, because there was no way Vince was going to let him in the bedroom tonight.

Couch it was.

Vince scowled as he listened to Howard's muffled footsteps echo away from their bedroom door.

It wasn't fair.

Howard wasn't usually the one to have a schedule busy enough to rival some celebrity; in fact, Howard usually didn't have much to do _at all._ Howard usually sat around the shop, complaining about scene kids, organising stationary village, stocktaking, polishing his various brass instruments and rearranging his horrible collection of vinyls. Vince was the one who never had a moment to himself, and when he did, he usually gave it to Howard anyway. Curling himself into a ball in the middle of their bed, Vince instinctively drew Howard's pillow close, breathing in his smell.

"Bloody anniversaries," he muttered, still upset, still annoyed – half at Howard, half at himself for _being_ so bloody upset about it all. It _was_ rather stupid.

"Bloody Howard."

He'd put _so_ much effort into it; it was their first anniversary, that's what couples did, right? They celebrated these things, and if there was one thing Vince always enjoyed, it was making a big fuss over something small. Even still, all-important first anniversary or not, he didn't really want to end up in tears over it.

"Bloody hell," he added for good measure, listening in the quiet to Howard setting up camp on the couch.

-=-

When Vince woke up the next morning, still clutching Howard's pillow tightly, panic gripped him for a perilous few seconds. He lay frozen in place as his mind tried to explain to him why on earth he was right in the middle of the bed with Howard's pillow and the covers made – or more specifically why Howard hadn't slept in their bed with him.

Then he remembered, and sulkily climbed under the blankets. It took a good twenty-five minutes before he finally managed to make himself stop sulking.

When he nervously opened the door a small gasp escaped his lips. He'd half expected Howard to have righted the living room, pushed the couch back, brought order back to the chaos, but his set up was still in place, but the room was as quiet as he'd thought it would be. Howard would be in the shop, something stupid as a forgotten anniversary wasn't going to keep him from maintaining order in the empty shop below. All the same, Vince had wanted something special to take him by surprise, like Howard was making it up to him with breakfast. But alas, it seemed Howard _still_ didn't know what made yesterday so special.

Despondent, Vince left the bedroom, headlining for the bathroom. Nothing got in his way and as he locked himself in, Vince told himself firmly that he _wasn't_ going to cry.

Hour and a half later, the clock ticking past quarter to twelve, Vince finally exited the bathroom, cleaned, coiffed and clothed to try and boost his mood. He was stopped in his tracks however, by Howard, who was standing on the landing with a large basket at his feet and looking suitably sheepish.

"I forgot," he said, arms hanging limply at his sides, though his hands twitched as though he wanted to do something with them.

"I know," Vince said, folding his arms tightly across his chest.  
"I'm sorry," Vince remained quiet, staring directly into Howard's small brown eyes. He felt guilty, that was sure. Howard's gaze dropped to the ground.

"I'd like to make it up to you," he said, nervously rising his gaze back up. Howard liked to think he was a Man of Action, a brave brazen maverick of every genre he ever heard of, but in most respects he was downright cowardly. Vince hadn't really paid that much thought to that piece of information about Howard until now, it never really mattered, but it was just so _obvious_ now as he so easily stared Howard down.

"How?" he asked, cocking a hip out, showing his displeasure. Howard wilted a little more.

"Picnic?"

"What about the shop, what did Naboo say?"  
"I cleared it with him," Howard answered dutifully, sounding a little proud of himself, and Vince, in turn, felt pride swell in his chest.

"Oh," he said, forcing the pride down. He was _angry_ with Howard, _angry._ He'd _forgotten_ their anniversary.

"What makes you think I don't have something on?" the way Howard dropped his gaze and his eyes moving frantically in his skull told Vince that Howard hadn't thought of that. He smirked a little.

"I mean, I went to a lot of trouble last night, but _you_ had something on." Now he was just being petty, torturing Howard because he could. But he couldn't help it; he'd been waiting for Howard for almost three hours, feeling more and more stupid the lower the candle melted.

"Please?" Howard asked, finally looking up and meeting Vince's gaze.

Stupid Howard crumbled Vince's determination in an instant.

"I'll buy you an icecream?" he pleaded with a shrug; Vince nodded, trying to keep his façade.

"Alright," he said, stopping himself from just wrapping his arms around Howard and smiling. If possible, he felt more stupid now than he did before.

Howard smiled and held out his hand, Vince stared at it for a moment, but instead of taking it like he wanted to, he flounced past down the stairs.

"This doesn't mean you're forgiven," he said, even though it kinda did.

_+_

The sun sat high in the sky as Vince flounced out the front door of the Nabootique, Howard trailing a few steps behind carrying their picnic basket, a small smile on his lips as he watched Vince. He was wearing his lightning top, it had been a while since Howard had seen that particular top, and it looked better on him than he remembered. Maybe it was simply because Vince had forgiven him for last night - there was no way he would be stopping to wait for him if Vince hadn't forgiven him already. Howard tried not to look as smug as he felt. He really should have been feeling ashamed of himself, but the air was nice, it was sunny and Vince was looking at him with an excited loving gleam in his eyes. How could anyone feel anything but glad to be alive in a moment like this?

"Hurry up, Howard." Vince said, hands on hips as he waited a few paces up the path. The moment Howard started walking again, so did Vince. Howard smiled; Vince was trying to maintain his huff as much as Howard was trying to keep looking guilty. Suitably neither of them were succeeding, and soon enough Vince fell back into step with Howard. He couldn't help it anymore, and when Vince slid his arm through Howard's as they crossed the road, he was grinning like a loon.

Vince noticed and smacked him.

"Oi," he growled, pulling away and quickening up a bit. Howard chuckled, watching as Vince's impish stalk wilted and he stopped, glancing back at Howard, all eyes and black fringe. He looked incredibly gorgeous and Howard stopped midpath.

"What?" Vince asked, turning around, all folded arms and mock anger again. "Nothing," he smiled, pointing over to a shady beech.

"Here good enough?" however he didn't wait for an answer, leaving the path and Vince for the shade of the tree. The basket was getting rather heavy and Howard silently noted that he needed to work his arm strength next time he was in jazzercise as he placed the basket down amongst the tree roots.

"I ain't forgiven you yet," Vince said, flopping down on the grass before Howard managed to pull out the blanket.

"But this is nice,"

"You'll have to move if I'm going to put this down,"  
"leave it, ya batty crease. Park means grass, Howard. Just lie down, yeah? It ain't gonna hurt ya."

Howard stood, watching Vince sprawled on the grass for a moment and sighed before doing as he was told; Vince fell on his back on the grass and was staring up at the twisting branches of the tree above, arms hanging loosely on his chest. He was strangely quiet watching the sky, and for a moment Howard guiltily thought back to the absolute silence of the flat as he lay on the couch, trying to sleep.

Vince sighed, rolling over and staring at Howard's face for a moment, as though he was reading Howard's thoughts, which on more than one occasion he was sure the younger man had. Whatever passed through Vince's mind settled and he flopped back down, head firmly in Howard's lap; Howard smiled, letting the guilt fade a little.

He instinctively began running his fingers through Vince's hair, it was soft and gleaming in the shade of the tree, still smelling faintly of fake strawberries and leave in conditioner. Vince sighed contentedly and relaxed wholly into Howard.

"You used the new stuff today," Howard murmured aloud, trailing through the silken locks. Vince froze and peered around.

"How do you know that?"

"Smells different," he murmured back.

"How?" Vince pressed, Howard panicked, he should have known better than to bring up _hair_.

"Just different,"

"Good different, or bad different? Tell me!"

"Just different,"

"You don't like it,"

"I like the old one better," Vince seemed to accept this answer and settled back.

"I bought it cause I thought you'd like it,"

"I like you, just the way you are."  
"Just like?"  
"Love? Adore?"

"Forget?"  
"I deserved that," Howard sighed, pulling away from Vince's coiffure.

"Yeah, where were you, eh? S'not like you got anything on!"  
"Thanks Vince, thankyou," Howard scowled. Vince rolled off him, skirting off into the grass.

"I was there for ages, Howard. Ages, an you didn't even remember."

"I forgot, Vince, I'm sorry."

"It ain't like you to forget, Howard. I mean, you got a calendar pocketwatch! You organise each step of the day like some jazzy stock manager. Well creepy! Then the one day that's special to us, you forget and go to Lester's!"

Howard stopped; he searched Vince's face, his slack mouth and wide questioning eyes. He didn't know what to say, if he said everything, it would ruin _weeks_ of hard work, weeks of secrecy, of planning of careful consideration. There were sixteen days left until Vince's birthday, he was going to ask him then. Lester had a point in suggesting then, rather than their anniversary, _yesterday_, making it that much more special for Vince. It would ruin everything if he got cold feet and asked him _now_, the day _after_ their anniversary out of _guilt_ than anything else.

"I know," he croaked out.  
"I'm sorry, Vince, truly."

This didn't appear to be the answer Vince was after by the way he rolled over and peered back up at the clouds.

"Hungry?" Howard asked, trying to break Vince blocking him out. It was stupid and petty and childish - ignoring him - and it was Vince's best technique. Vince looked over, quiet for a moment before he replied.

"Yeah,"

Howard immediately began pulling out the assortment of cakes and sandwiches he had bought (cakes) and made himself (sandwiches).

Vince's eyes sparked at the foray.

"Naw, Howard, you went well out," he said with a smile, the affectionate upturn of his cheeks breaking through the uncomfortable air between them, Howard watched him peeling the clingwrap off a cream tart and blushed a little as Vince, smiling happily, began picking at the cream, licking the white from his finger.

It became obvious Vince knew he was watching by how slow his movements became, dragging his finger down and letting the cream hang on his tongue.

Vince giggled.

"You're so easy to tease, Howard,"

"You're such a tease it's impossible not to be,"

"Not to be what?" Vince asked cheekily. Wagging his eyebrows.

Howard's smiled faded from his lips.

"Enchanted,"

Vince rolled over and onto Howard, leaning his forehead against Howard's. Howard looked at him, quietly and made his decision.

"I got you something," Howard whispered.

"Its not much, but – " Howard knew he was blushing beet red as he fiddled in the basket, pulling out a little drawstring bag.

Vince smiled, taking the bag out of Howard's fingers before he could say anymore.

"This is well nice Howard!" and the little black bag was, it could do with a little silver stitching or something, but then, everything could.

"There's something inside it, silly," Howard chuckled, watching as Vince grinned, pulling at the strings. Tipping the contents out onto his hand he laughed, immediately reaching down to pick up the fruitloops necklace that dropped out onto the grass. Howard was bright red by this point, sure that Vince was laughing in jest, sure that it was the most stupid thing on the planet. What had he been thinking? A _cereal_ necklace?

"This is genius Howard! Put it on! Put it on!" Vince giggled, tumbling once more across Howard's lap in a rush to pass the chain back to him.

"You like it then?"  
"I love it!" he giggled, playing with it, fiddling the cereal between his fingers.

"Howard! There ain't lifesavers sweets in this?" he laughed, rolling over to face Howard, fumbling as he dragged himself to his knees.

"I'm sorry I forgot," Howard murmured into Vince's ear as the younger man threw his arms around him, laughing against him.

"I know," Vince grinned, leaning hard against him so that Howard fell back against the grass.

"But it don't matter," he whispered, leaning close and all Howard could see was dazzling, dazzling blue curtained in black. It was the most amazing sight.

"Cause I love you, and I forgive you," he smiled, leaning down and pressing his lips softly, teasingly against Howard's. He tasted all sweet and soft and the breath of space between them was so close it was painful, and so far away it was agony.

"You taste like whipped cream," Howard smirked, breaking the silence. Vince grinned, flopping over Howard, almost driving the air out of him.

It only took a second, and then he was back, kissing Howard harder, stronger and definitely sweeter than before. He giggled against Howard's lips as he pulled away, his hand sneaking up and smudging something soft and whipped on Howard's nose. A soft chuckle rumbled from deep in his chest.

"So do you," Vince grinned, kissing Howard's nose and his mouth in quick succession.

Howard laughed, pushing the niggling stupid ring to the back of his mind. It could wait, for another time, another imperiously happy time, in just sixteen days. Right now, he was caught up in Vince and cream tarts, the air smelling sweet: grass and sunshine and the ever-present tang of strawberries.

He'd forgotten last night, but today was more than making up for it.

**AN: This is the first one posted, but not necessarily the first one in the series. i WILL write how they get together and such later. So eventually you'll have to check the names of chapters later on! Hope you enjoyed it! Sequel, 'Engaging' (bet you can't guess what happens there), will be up shortly! Just so you know, they'll all be ridiculous fluffy things with virtually no point except boykissing and fluff. Pure indulgence people! haha. Come for the ride?**

**3 the Captain**


	2. I'm finding things a little engaging

_**Told you it'd be soon! **_

_**Howard's still trying to make it up to Vince for forgetting their anniversary. What he's got planned for Vince's birthday might make up for it. If he can pull it off, that is. But I mean, it's Howard. Something has to go wrong. In this case, not one, but many somethings. Let I remind you agian, this is INDULGENCE. But still fun to read, y/n plz eff off? Let me know! **_

_**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, this is a child playing with toys that dont belong to her, making them do things they're not 'supposed' to do according to conventional society. But i mean, it's Boosh, it belongs to Barratt and Feilding and they've been making them kiss long before I did. **_

The last fifteen days had been for Howard what most people would call _difficult_, though Howard wasn't sure what to call it.

The tumultuous two days that had celebrated their first anniversary were followed with two days of bliss. What followed then was a roller-coaster ride of lazy, mindless affection and uncomfortable guilt trips. Vince had learned really quite quickly how far beginning a sentence with 'Don't _forget_, Howard' could get him.

So far Howard had missed two Jazzercise classes and endured a Colobus the crab marathon. Within days Vince barely even needed to say anything, he'd simply turn his wide accusing eyes on him and the Jazz Maverick would go to pieces, stuttering and mumbling and rushing to do what insanity Vince had concocted. But He'd put his foot down on day twelve (pit pony for another trip to Topshop) after he'd walked in on Vince and Bollo discussing what would be worse, taking him to the cosmetics aisle and using him as a test dummy, or abandoning him in the rock section of HMV, where Howard was renowned for standing around awkwardly and talking absolute crap trying to put himself more at ease when Vince wandered off.

Still reeling from Howard's strop (not that he called it that, he'd called it

'Being reasonable') day thirteen hadn't featured any of the wide eyes or the guilt trips; it had been one of the lulling lazy days filled with smiles and caresses and, well, Howard had spent the afternoon reorganising the stock cupboard after it had fallen into disarray during lunch. But curled up on the couch, Vince breathing lightly on his neck and ignoring the bold arrangement on Howard's shirt to trail soft patterns only he could see along the cotton, Howard knew that the younger man had spent the day trying to lull him into a false sense of security, yes sir. Cementing this theory, Howard woke the next morning to Vince gently running his fingers over his forehead and down his nose.

"You know it's my birthday in four days, yeah?" Vince mused ever so tactfully the moment Howard blinked the sleep from his eyes.

"That I do, little man," he'd managed to say before Vince skilfully stopped him from leaving the bedroom for another good half hour.

From that moment, Howard had absolutely nowhere to go without being reminded of Vince's imminent thirtysomethingth birthday (no one was privy to the actual number, and somehow Howard couldn't seem to remember or find a record of the date Vince was born, the smaller man's purge completed very well indeed) and day he could finally rid himself of the ring currently burning a hole in the middle of his best muffin shirts. That drawer was the safest place in the world. Vince wouldn't go near anything muffin that wasn't a cake, and just to be sure, he'd stacked a pile of jazz LP's he didn't want to lose at the top – safer than _any_ locked box in Nabootique's walls, yes sir. Vince wouldn't go near that drawer no matter what happened and Naboo and Bollo weren't privy to the tiny box's location as Howard was sure the moment Bollo knew where it was the ape would crumble under Vince's will and show him his present before the big day, which had happened twice out of the last three years.

But regardless of how safe it was, the tiny ring of white gold was an object that haunted every moment Howard spent with Vince or without; there weren't many of the latter, considering Vince had taken to hovering around hoping Howard would slip up and tell him what he was getting for his birthday, the same thing had been happening for years; Howard was lucky to even receive a gift on his birthday, but Vince was adamant to find out what his was from the moment he suspected it had entered the house, and would use any means to figure it out.

Howard was quite proud that he'd managed to remain covert enough that Vince hadn't started sneaking the subject of presents into conversation when Howard had first tipped the subject to Naboo months ago. But for what Vince had lacked in time he made up for in quantity. Suggestions of a party had been made, if only to worm out of Howard that _he_ wasn't organising one; catalogues had been perused offhand and on purpose. Internet pages had been left open (some of them quite rude to be left on such a public appliance, though Howard was sure the one featuring the marmosets was Bollo's) and idea's had been voiced during their daily collapse on the sofa for a Colobus the Crab episode. As day fifteen came to a close Howard caught Vince pouting and eyeing his cupboards, to which he couldn't help but smile, quite proud of himself, yes indeed, at how well he was managing to hide how nervous he was, managing to hide the ring, the hotel booking, all of it.

By eleven thirty of day sixteen, the day before Vince's birthday, Howard finally gave in to him, falling prey to the wide eyes and the pouting bottom lip, slumped shoulders and petulant silence. Vince pretty much guilt tripped him out of it, and he informed him right before lunch that he had to pack for a weekend away, which sent the younger man in a bit of a tiz, and Howard didn't see him until an hour later when Vince came rushing back down the stairs, finally deciding he needed to know where they were going and whether or not he needed three hats or five.

"It's one weekend, Vince."

"That's what you always say, Howard. You said one weekend and we wound up in Leeds for two weeks, I still can't believe you never told me your Aunt Dora used to be a stage manager for the Stones, once."

"You're not complaining about that, are you?"

"Not Aunt Dora, course not! She's brilliant – but I still think my fashion was well off when I came back here, Howard. I ain't ever seen so much brown in my life when we were up there. Thought I was in the Australian bush or sommat."

"You know the Australian bush isn't all brown, Vince. The bush is renowned for being mostly evergreen – they never lose their leaves, the Australian eucalypts. Green all year around, yes sir. They're strong, hardy tree's Vince. Some Australian plants can even survive bushfires – you know the – "

"Whatever Howard, point is my colour senses were well off, after that. Plain to see where you got it from. You never had a chance, Howard."

"I resent that sir, brown is a strong, manly shade."

"Yeah, but it ain't a shade, Howard. Shades are white and black and the rest of the _colour_ between em, brown ain't a shade. Ain't even a colour – brown's a mess."

"I'm not telling you where we're going, Vince. You'll only need _one_ hat. One."

"Whatever, Howard." Vince had sulked back upstairs to finish packing, but at four when Howard flipped the sign around early and trundled upstairs to pack and get Vince sorted and into the van before the sun went down and they had to stop before they'd started, Vince had still managed to fit two hats and at least three pairs of boots into his luggage.

"Need to be prepared, Howard." To which Howard had smiled thinking of his months of planning, reservations and secrets. Proud of both himself, and that no matter how long it had taken, Vince had finally learned the art of planning and preparation.

*~*~*

"Are you _ever _going to tell me where we're going?" Vince pouted an hour later as they drove along a deserted highway, the sun descending to a point where it was getting really quite annoying in the rear mirror, not that Vince could tell, the smaller man was slouched in his seat, feet on the dashboard twirling a lollypop between his mouth and using it as a baton.

"That would ruin the surprise, Little Man."

"But I'm already surprised Howard, you got away with keeping this all secret. You're usually rubbish at this sort of thing. I knew before you did that you were gonna get me that hat last year."

"Vince, you made the shop keeper put it aside, then you dragged me out of a very serious meeting to go and buy the stupid thing. You were waiting outside the shop while they giftwrapped it. You even knew what wrapping paper was on it, and I missed out on a very important shipping because of your impatience."

"Important shipping order? Howard _no one _in _Europe_ needs trombone socks. _Honestly._ Thought you would have learned when you only sold _one_ trumpet sock."

"That was a very important sale, Vince. Each sale is as important as the next, they play a very important role in the survival of a successful business."

"Howard, _I _sold it for a Euro, and only cause someone wanted to bury a dead squirrel with it."

"And without it, that squirrel would have met the earth cold and bare."

"I think that squirrel would have preferred to go starkers than wear one of your socks, Howard." Vince snickered, rolling his lolly across his lips in a devilish smile. Howard turned back to the road and tried to stop his brain sending messages running around his body and informing _everything_ that Vince was sucking that caramelised sugar in a way very similar to the way he sucked the end of Howard's cock.

"I really love _hard_ candy, don't you Howard?" Vince giggled and Howard felt a blush creep into his cheeks.

"Stop it,"

"But _Howard," _Vince laughed, "Its my _birthday_ tomorrow. You should pay me more attention."

"I'm driving, Vince. How on earth can I provide you with _any _more attention and get us where we're going?"

"Dunno, Howard. You're the man of action."

"Go to sleep or something."

"Can I put a tape on?"

"As long as it's not Gary."

"Why not? What's wrong with Gary?"

"He annoys me. He's _not_ the best travelling music."

"Not the best travelling music? Howard why do you think _Cars_ was written, you berk? It's like the number one travelling song ever! Only Bohemian Rhapsody is better for an all car singalong."

"We're not playing Gary."

"But _Howaaaard, _It's my _birthday_ tomorrow."

"Exactly. Not today. Tomorrow. No Gary."

Ten minutes later 'Cars' was serenading the highway.

*~*~*

"Margate?" Vince said with an air of indifferent surprise as they pulled up in front of the hotel. He looked over at Howard and said it again as if parking the van didn't clarify it enough.

"Margate, Howard?"

"Yes, Little Man. Now, come on, if we're quick we can unpack and still have enough time to get fish and chips for dinner on the pier." Howard offered a smile and Vince's heart melted. He could forgive the effect the sea air would have on his hair for the look on Howard's face.

He grinned. "Genius," he murmured following Howard and getting their bags out of the back.

It took thirty-five minutes for Howard to sort out his booking with the receptionist before they finally got into the elevator. Grinning to himself, Vince stood right next to Howard, setting his bags around them both so that the Northerner was pressed right against him.

"Small, innit?" he smirked.

"It's actually an ample sized elevator, Vince." Howard replied, bemused. Vince rolled his eyes and reached down to toy with the edge of Howard's shirt.

"Nah, with all my junk, it's really small. Can't help invade your personal space, Howard."

Howard made a stupid looking 'o' with his mouth as he caught on and chuckled.

"Guess I'll have to endure it, Little Man," Howard smiled as the elevator started moving, a jazzy jingle echoing from the speakers.

"Eugh! What is that!" the sound was rippling through Vince's ears. Even before he could clamp his hands over his ears his skin was prickling and Howard was looking at him with an exasperated look on his face.

"You just can't stand it, can you?" Howard had sighed, later, once they'd managed to get to their room and Vince had finally emerged from the bathroom in a haze of steam. Darkness completely descended and nine o clock ticking past on the glowing alarm clock.

"Jazz? I'm allergic, Howard. Can't help if my immune system's got better taste than your entire body."

Howard rolled his eyes and began playing with his keys and wallet on the bedside table.

"Are we going to go and get dinner, Vince? That's if they're still open! You were in there more than an hour."

Vince met Howard's eyes and grinned. He'd had a much better idea while he was washing his hair.

"Nah," he smiled, crossing the room and pushing Howard back on the bed.

"We gotta christen the bed, yeah? That's what they do in films and stuff."

"We're not in a film, Vince." Howard said softly. But Vince ignored him and crawled on top, straddling his great northern berk.

"Well I got to thank you for my birthday surprise, yeah?"

That seemed to shut him up. Or it may have been Vince's mouth on his.

Either way, his hand down Howard's pants seemed to have the opposite effect.

*~*~*

Vince woke up surprisingly early, considering what day it was and how comfy it was curled up around Howard. The moment he stirred so did Howard; Vince couldn't help but laugh at the grumbling echoing above him. It was like cuddling up to a grumpy bear.

"Hey," Vince grinned.

"Hey," Howard mumbled, playing offhandedly with the back of Vince's hair.

Vince laughed softly and lay his head back down on Howard's chest.

"You're not going back to sleep, are you?"

"No," he mumbled.

"S'nice when you do that, is all."

It was Howard's turn to laugh.

"You and your hair." But he didn't stop. Vince opened his eyes and grinned lazily up at Howard.

"Thanks, Howard."

"For what?"

"For bumming me senseless, you plumb. I reckon them people next door would've complained, yeah? Must've got sick of yelling at us through the wall."

"You started it."

"Did not."

"You did."

"You were the one that yelped like a puppy getting all trodden on."

Vince laughed against Howard's chest, he could see the faint blush in Howard's cheeks even from his odd angle.

"You bit me."

"You were using your tongue. That weren't fair."

"Tit for tat."

"Who you calling a tit?"

Howard laughed and twirled another lock of hair around his finger.

"Come on, let's go for a walk."

"Don't wanna."

"Why not?"

"Comfy."

"If it was up to you, the world would be in bed until noon, and in heels until five am."

"If it was up to me you wouldn't have packed a suitcase full of fashion criminals."

"You went through my suitcase?" Vince couldn't help but notice the twinge of panic in Howard's voice.

"No, I aint going near that. Bollo told me what was in there. I can't believe you brought Jazz records on a beach holiday."

A long breath escaped Howard's lips, his chest jerking as he exhaled.

"Just thought I'd bring them along, Little Man."

"Whatever. Can we go to the beach, Howard?"

"If you can get off me, we can."

"Genius."

But he still didn't move for another half hour.

*~*~*

It was about nine o clock when Vince swanned out of the elevator in a brilliant yellow tshirt he was glad he packed cause it had rainbows and sandcastles across it. He'd had it for _ages_ and it was still brilliant. The girl at reception beamed at him when he walked over to her.

"Alright?" he grinned. She giggled and blushed.

"How can I help you this morning, sir?"

"It's Vince, yeah? Call me Vince. Everyone else does. I was just wondering what's good to do. I don't know nothing and Howard's being a right plumb and wont tell me nothing either."

"Well there's the festival, which starts this morning, actually. Everyone's setting up out there. It's big in this town."

"What festival! Festivals are genius. Music and people and dancing and – " Vince stopped as he looked at the flyer she handed him.

Big Sky Jazz Festival. Jazz. Festival. Today.

"_Jazz festival!" _he breathed out loud, staring at the flyer in horror.

"Yep, every year!"

"Jazz. There's a jazz festival. _Today_?"

"Yeah! Brilliant, I know." Vince felt the colour drain from his face and his stomach plummet. Howard had brought him all this way so that he could go to a Jazz Festival. On Vince's birthday.

"Yeah – just, _brilliant._"

"Vince! You coming?" Howard asked, a stupid grin on his face as he stood by the entrance to the elevators.

"Yeah, Howard." He murmured, putting the flyer back and following Howard out the front doors, wearing a very distinct frown.

*~*~*

"Vince?" Howard asked, watching his partner moodily walk up the beach.

"What's wrong Little Man?"

"Nothing." That, if anything, seemed to contradict itself.

"Vince, you sure – "

"S'nothing, Howard. Honest."

"Do you want to go and get something to eat? There's got to be an icecream stall around here somewhere." He craned his head, searching the somewhat crowded beach. It was bright, it was sunny, people were laughing, smiling playing in the water and Vince looked like someone had told him Mick Jagger had decided to go into hiding in the Himalayas, never to return.

"Nah, Howard. I'm right. Tired, I guess."

"Must've worn you out last night." He grinned, expecting a backlash. But Vince didn't give.

"Must have."

"You sure you're okay?"

"I'm _brilliant_, Howard," Vince smiled. Though there was a sarcastic ring to his tone that Howard didn't like at all. But before he could think of anything else to say, Vince had flounced a little further up the beach, in ridiculous black winklepickers.

Idiot.

By the time he'd caught up with him, Howard was sure that he could feel the back of his neck beginning to burn, but that was nothing to the feeling of the ring box in his pocket. He was amazed his trousers hadn't combusted. He had to do it soon.

Dreamland was the perfect place. A funpark. What else would Vince talk about for years than the day Howard Moon, Jazz Maverick, lover extraordinaire got down on bended knee in the middle of a fun park and asked Vince to marry him? Probably the fairy floss in one hand and giant lollypop in the other, now Howard thought about it.

Never the less he was finally ready!

"Come on, Little Man. I know somewhere that will cheer you up."

*~*~*

Howard stared at the large sign in horror.

"Closed." Vince scowled.

"But – but," Howard stuttered. How could it be _closed?_ It was one of the town's main attractions, how could it be _closed?_

"You know, Howard, you didn't have to bring me to an amusement park that's been closed since 2003 so you could go to your stupid Jazz festival." Howard spun around to face Vince. The younger man's face was impassive, his voice empty.

"I didn't – "

"S'ok, Howard. I don't mind."

"I _didn't._"

"I don't care, Howard. I'll go back to the beach or sommat, you can go to your festival. I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Vince!" he yelled as Vince turned and started walking back up the road.

"I'm not here for the festival!" Howard all but shouted after him.

"Whatever, Howard," Vince called back. Howard watched as Vince's retreating back disappeared into the crowd just ahead. He hung his head; the feeling of a tiny ring box still hot in his pocket.

_Closed._

A strange noise escaped Howard's lips.

Everything had the potential to be so perfect. He'd been thinking about it for months.

How could things go so wrong so quickly?

Just his luck, really.

*~*~*

Vince was used to people stopping what they were doing to look at him when he entered the pub, but this time he wasn't much into living up to it. He really just wanted to get very, very drunk. After all, what else did you do on a birthday you wanted to forget?

"Vodka, please," He asked the girl behind the bar. She looked at him quizzically for a moment, as though trying to figure out whether it would be safe to deny him such a request so early in the day. His shoulders slumped a little as he leant heavily against the bar. Her hesitation disappeared.

"Bad morning?" she asked, pouring the drink as he leaned on his hands.

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Care to talk about it?"

"If you got nothing better to do. I'm all up for complaining."

She smiled.

"Let me get Ned his beer and I'll be back with you." She smiled warmly putting the glass in front of him. He downed it and made a face as it burned his way down his throat. There was a definite difference in taste between early morning and late night in his tastebuds.

"I'm all yours," she smiled a minute later, drying her hands.

"You ever been taken some place for your birthday?" he asked, tentatively. She  
smiled and dropped her head coyly.

"Whisked away without knowing where?"

"No, but it's every girl's dream, isn't it? Rushed off for a romantic holiday."

"Yeah, well they ain't all they meant to be. S'posed to be my birthday today, you know."

"Happy birthday."

"Ain't so happy, innit?" he moodily toyed with his empty glass.

"See my boyfriend, Howard," he looked up through his lashes, suddenly remembering they weren't in London anymore and some places weren't so friendly. She barely fluttered an eyelash. Good then.

"Well he brought me up here, and at first I thought it was brilliant, yeah? Like you said, a real romantic holiday. Only he only did it cause there's that Jazz thing on. He loves Jazz. Total nutcase for it yeah. S'posed to be _my_ birthday and he brings me here for a jazz festival when I'm allergic to everything about it. Some birthday present, yeah? An to top it all off he tried to pass off that he was taking me to the that amusement park."

She laughed and his mood got even sourer.

"I mean, I'm thick but I ain't stupid. That's been closed _ages._ But he won't even admit that's why we're here. I mean, he's like one of three people who like Jazz in London and there's a festival here so there's got to be like twelve people from all over Europe. Howard ain't gonna ditch off sitting in the dark listening to Mingal with others who like corduroy as much as he does. Not even on my _birthday._"

"There's usually a few more than twelve people here, but I'm sure if you tell him you don't want to go – "

"But I can't tell him that! I've been telling him for years that I don't like it. He knows it makes me blow up like one of them fish. You know like that one in Finding Nemo! But I'm still here, ain't I? I can't tell him no. I just … can't."

She smiled, looking a little whistful.

"I'm sure everything will work out."

"Yeah." Vince frowned and waved the glass in front of his face.

"Can I have the bottle?"

*~*~*

It was almost quarter past one when Howard finally got back to the Hotel. He'd got lost on the way and had been circling the block aimlessly for the last three quarters of an hour, fresh from having his questions ignored or from being escorted from the premises for making lewd comments in a public area. Either way no one had seemed to have seen Vince, or if they had they weren't up for telling him. Driven by a mixture of melancholy and despair he'd headed back for the Hotel and been told by the receptionist that unless he was making a booking he had to leave the premises, they didn't allow tramps on site.

"No, look, I already have a room. I'm in room 204 with Vince Noir, I'm looking for him. That's all. He walked off earlier, skinny like a rake, big nose like a beak – blue eyes."

"Oh, that doll's been in the bar for more than an hour now." The receptionist finally smiled, her eyes glazing over.

"He's a nice guy. Pity he's here with his Dad, though- " she mused aloud, though Howard didn't hear her, he'd run off towards the bar.

It didn't take much at all to find Vince. Even draped sadly over the bar like any drunken sod decorating the room, Vince still had to make a statement in red skinnies and his bright yellow tshirt.

"Oh, Vince."

"Hoooowrd!" Vince smiled, blinking up at Howard with a dazed drunken smile as Howard walked over and sat down next to his lover.

"Yoush got a funny name, Hooooward." Vince slurred, phasing out into a small drunken giggle as he blinked at Howard. Howard smiled sadly. Vince giggled again.

"Sh'funny."

"It's not _funny."_ Howard frowned.

"Shure it ish, Hooooward. Who'sh called Hooooward? No onesh called Hoooward, not these daysh. Well _boring._ Like jash, jash is well boring. Like you. Why'd you bring me here, Hooooward. Sh'my birthday. Why'd you bring me to see jash on my birthday? I don't wanna blow up like a balloon. Not on my birthday."

"Oh Vince." He hung his head, ashamed and embarrassed. It sounded so stupid now. Everything had just turned stupid, when just yesterday he'd had such hope for something magical and fantastical and wondrous. But then again, that was the beauty of his life. Nothing ever went well for Howard Moon; even when he'd managed the near impossible and blended the line between friend and lover with the raven haired berk leaning against him and the bar, blinking stupidly, all Howard feel was that they were on a precipice and one bad move would send them both tumbling. He'd never felt good enough for Vince, and things like this, like their first anniversary, they just seemed to feed his natural feelings of inadequacy. Perfection, he just wanted one day with Vince to be perfect, so they could have that one day and that one day could last forever. But he couldn't even manage that.

"Thish is Shandy, Hoooward." Vince said, pushing himself up and blinking his vision clear enough to motion to the barmaid. She smiled, a little sadly, back at him. Vince didn't seem to notice; he just kept talking. "She'sh been my friend. You're not; you're not my friend, Howard. You wouldn't bring me here if you wash my friend." Vince suddenly seemed to realise how much he was leaning on Howard and pushed himself up and away.

"Come on little man," Howard murmured, trying to catch Vince's elbow and keep him vertical.

"I ain't _little!"_ Vince protested, pulling out of Howard's grasp as he tried to manoeuvre himself off his bar stool.

"Sh'my birthday. I'm thirty, thirty – " he seemed to think about it.

"Thirty shomshing. How old am I Hoooward?" Vince slurred, slumping against his Northerner once again, this time completely happy to do so.

"Not sure, Little Man, you destroyed all those documents, remember?"

"Oh yesh, I 'member that. I burned your man corshet too, Hooooward. I'm shorry. No mansh should have knockers – speshially my man."

"I was wondering where that went."

"But, but not at the shame time, different timesh. I burned the man corshet when I burned that, that _thing._ The thing. You know the thing, Hooooward?"

"That Cheekbone magazine that said your hair was – "

"Shhhhhhh!" Vince hushed, pressing his finger to Howard's lips to shut him up.

"No talkies, no no, we no talk bout that, 'kay? Shey never shaid that."

"Course not, Little man. Now, come on."

"Where are we going, Hoooooward?" Vince asked as Howard began to move him across the bar towards the lift.

"Our room."

"Oh, why?"

"So you can have a little sleepy."

"'kay. You know I didn't mean it Hooooward,"

"Mean what?"

"When I shaid you're not my friend. You're shtill my friend, Hooooward. My best friend. I love you lotsh!"

"I love you too, Little man." Howard murmured kissing Vince's forehead as the younger man tried to hug Howard awkwardly as they kept moving towards the elevator.

*~*~*

Vince seemed to pass out the moment his head hit the pillow. It was sad, really, a sad almost pathetic sight that made Howard's insides churn. Vince honestly believed they were in Margate for one reason, the festival, and Howard didn't know how to make him see otherwise. Lester for one was going to get a severe talking to when Howard got back to London.

Pulling Vince's boots off he set them down by the side of the bed and with a bit of searching found an extra blanket which he draped over Vince before he sat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry, Vince," he murmured, tentatively reaching out and running his fingers through Vince's hair, sweeping it off his lover's cheeks, letting it run between his digits, soft and silky. Vince made a soft murmuring sound and scrunched up his face. Howard sighed and took his fingers away, but Vince frowned again and Howard chuckled.

"You sleep well, Little Man," he whispered, laying a soft kiss on Vince's cheek.

"Sleep it all off. I'll figure it out. Promise."

*~*~*

Needing a stiff drink of his own Howard settled himself on Vince's chair in the bar some half hour after he'd left with the smaller man.

"Is he okay?" the girl asked as she set down Howard's order.

"Yeah, dead to the world. He'll be fine though. Might have a bit of a headache in the morning, though."

"That's expected," she chuckled.

"Your name's not really 'Shandy' is it?" Howard asked, feeling a little stupid as he said it. She laughed.

"No, it's Sandy. And you're Howard."

After so many years of hearing people call him Harold, with Vince the only exception, hearing it from the young girl's mouth was slightly disconcerting.

"Yeah."

"Is he always like that?" she asked, her face a little scrunched up as though unsure it was polite to ask.

"It's been a while since he's been like that. But he does always talk that much. Most of the time you can understand him a little more. Not much, but a little." The girl laughed again, the tension gone.

"He's nice."

"Yeah, he is. It's just he jumps to conclusions faster than leapfrog."

"Well from what he saw it does seem a little suspicious. The festival isn't overly popular, so it's fair someone who likes jazz as much as Vince says you do, wouldn't really come here during the festival without being here _for_ the festival." She laughed.

"Did that make sense? My point is, I don't see many people like you coming here for the beach."

"No," Howard chuckled offhandedly.

"But I didn't come here for the festival. I didn't mean for it to all go like this. I had this whole plan. I've been working at it for months. I was going to ask him to – " Howard trailed off, blushing as he realised what he was saying. The girl laughed and leaned forward, her interest peaked.

"You were going to what?"

"I brought him here to ask him to marry me," he mumbled, red as a beetroot. The girls' delighted laughter was like bells.

"I was so panicky I asked the people I know where would be nice to take him. My friend Lester told me about the amusement park, and he's so child like, Vince. He's just – so; he's sunshine in a catsuit, usually. I thought it was perfect. I was too anxious to remember Lester still thinks it's 1976. I should have checked, I just got too preoccupied in keeping this hidden – " he said, pulling out the ring box and opening it. The girl leaned over and emitted a delighted squeak as he sat it down on the counter.

"That's so sweet!"

"He's so nosey with his presents. Birthday and Christmas are nightmare. I got too focussed on keeping things secret I never focussed on making things right."

"It'll be okay, Howard. Tell him, he'll understand."

"But I need to do it properly."

"As long as it's clear you've put some effort into it, as long as it's clear you love him, it shouldn't matter whether it's properly or not. That's what I think, anyway. But then again, my parents got engaged on jet ski's two months after they met." She laughed again.

"Whatever you do, Howard. He'll think it's perfect anyway. Trust me."

"Thanks, Sandy." He murmured, downing his drink and going back upstairs to his sleeping beauty.

*~*~*

When Vince woke up some time later Howard was on the bed beside him, smiling.

"What're you smirking at?" he groaned.

"Have fun, did you?"

"No thanks to you."

"Don't be like that."

"Like what?"

"Angry at me."

"Why shouldn't I be? I'm here, I'm sunburnt and hung over and in the middle of a town rifled with Jazz. I think I got every reason to be peeved, yeah?"

"I didn't mean for it to go like this, you know."

"Like what?"

"The jazz festival for one."

"What?"

"I didn't know it was on, you tit."

"Oh. Why not? You love all that stuff. Surely it's in one of them creepy magazines you subscribe to! This is like Glastonbury of sommat for squares who like dodgy music and heavy duty brown fabric, yeah?"

"Not quite, Vince."

"Well, what else would you do here?"

"Never mind Vince. Come on, we'll get some aloe vera gel and put on your sunburn if you even have any."

"Oi, don't mock me."

"I'll mock whoever I like, sir."

"Shut up Howard, my head's pounding."

Howard laughed as he crossed the room and pulled out the bottle of gel.

"Be nice." Vince shot a warning glance as Howard settled on the bed beside him again.

He could hear Howard chuckling as careful fingers gently rubbed the green gel into the pale red on the back of Vince's neck.

"Ow!"

"You're such a drama queen."

"No I ain't. I never studied drama."

"Course not, you're a natural."

"Shut up, I can hear you smirking." He tried to scowl but the cool circles Howard was rubbing on the back of his neck was heavenly and was making being angry really hard. When at last Howard was finished and Vince had tried to get the same effect on the much redder back of Howard's neck, curling up against his Northerner like he'd woken up that morning was just the most perfect thing to do.

"This is nice."

"Mmm." Howard replied, one hand once again playing in his hair.

"I like this, Howard. Next time we don't need to leave Shoreditch, yeah? We'll just hole up in the bedroom and cuddle, alright?"

"If you say so, Little Man," Howard chuckled for a moment, but then he tensed.

"Howard?"

"Hold still a sec." From where he was Vince could see a hand sneaking into Howard's jacket pocket.

Howard was smiling as he did it, but after a second his smile slipped.

"What is it?"

"Nothing – " Howard sat up, dislodging Vince from his pocket of warmth.

"Howard?" Howard checked his other pocket and a little of the colour drained from his face.

"Howard?" Howard got off the bed and patted both pockets at once. Nothing seemed to be there and he stared from the doorway to the bed.

"Howard!" Vince yelled, annoyed at being so vehemently ignored.

"I can't find it!" his voice was high and whiney, almost like Vince's sort of got when he was under stress when at last Howard spoke.

"What?"

"A little green box. Green box. Little green box. I need to find the green box."

"Alright, shut up you berk, my head's giving me a right thrashing."

"I have to find it!"

"Well if it ain't here, where'd you go? Where's you have it last?"

"I had it in my pocket. I found you and brought you up here, then I went and had a drink, then I came back here and I had it, I had it and then. Now I don't have it. Where is it! I need it!"

"Howard! Stop freaking out, yeah?"

"I have to find it! I have to!" Vince shook his head, watching Howard check his pockets again.

"Alright you plumb duff, I'll go and see if you left it in the bar." He scowled and slammed the door as he left the room, left Howard upending both their cases in a mission to find a _green_ _box_ that Vince had certainly never seen before.

The elevator dinged as he hit the ground floor, but he didn't really feel like imitating the sound like he usually did. He didn't feel like smiling back at the receptionist as he walked past, either. He just wanted this whole trip to _end._ Too much sun and sand and Jazz and Howard. He just wanted to curl up under his doona and mope.

Sandy was further down the bar when he went up, and before he could call her over a young guy, who'd barely escaped spots and whose hair needed a right sorting came over. If he hadn't been in such a mood, Vince would've offered a tip to solve the greasy mop.

"Hey, did someone leave something here before? Green box, apparently," he asked. The kid looked nonplussed for a moment.

"Sandy! Some guy leave a box here before?" the kid asked suddenly.

"Yeah, its in the drawer!" she called back, pouring another beer without looking up.

"I'll have a look, be back in a mo'." The guy said, drying his hands as he walked off.

Vince nodded, watching as the young guy rifled through the drawer just halfway up the bar and pulled out a tiny green box.

"Is that it?" he asked holding it out.

"Nick!" someone called out.

"Hey Sandy!" Vince smiled taking the box. It was tiny.

"Vince – " Sandy was saying as she crossed the room.

"Vince!" Vince froze as Howard's voice joined the bargirl's. Turning around he saw Howard, on the opposite side of the room, Sandy was looking at him, almost as horrified as Howard.

"Vince – " Howard croaked, his small eyes flickering from the small box to Vince's face and back again.

"Found it." If anything Howard's face seemed to go a shade whiter.

"Howard, what _is_ it?" He held up the box. What on earth was inside to make Howard this scared? If anything it was making Vince a little apprehensive. Howard opened his mouth a couple of times, but nothing came out but a distorted squeak.

"Howard?" he held it up a little higher, as though if Howard could see it better he could understand and answer the question.

"Vince, don't open it!" Vince stopped and looked up again. He could feel everyone in the room looking at him, but all he could feel was the distress emulating from Howard standing just across the way.

"Howard?"

"Look, Vince, please don't open it!"

"Okay, Howard. Here - " He held out the tiny box. Howard eyed it nervously for a moment and stepped forward. But as Vince passed it over his fingers slipped and pressed the tiny little silver dot on the front of the box he hadn't seen. The hatch released and the lid popped open as Vince dropped the box towards Howard's open palm. There was a horrified silence as what was very clearly a little silver ring fall towards the ground, the tricky little box following just behind, fumbling from Howard's grasp.

"No!" A collective gasp went up around the room as Howard dropped to the ground after them both. Vince stood where he was standing, staring at Howard in his loud printed shirt brown jacket and nutmeg cords, staring at the head of frazzled wispy brown hair and those strong arms. Something was clicking on the ground as the bargirl, Sandy came around the bar to help, but she didn't get all the way around before Howard's shoulders squared and everything stopped dead still again.

"H-Howard?" Vince wasn't sure he was breathing at all, because nothing felt real; it was Oz and Wonderland and Hogwarts all rolled into one. It was a bar in a middleclass hotel in Margate and Howard was turning around, refusing to get up off the ground amongst the dropped peanuts and beach sand.

Howard looked up, tentative and awkward and everything that was just so Howard. A shaky smile broke Vince's otherwise stunned face.

"Vince?" Howard asked, all shaky and shy.

"Howard?"

"Will you marry me?"

Vince stared down at the idiot on his knees, right at Vince's feet. In his lifetime Vince had had so many people at his feet; he didn't want Howard there too. Breathless and beaming, forgetting where they were, who was watching and what he was wearing, Vince knelt down on his knees in front of Howard. Howard was staring, looking absolutely terrified right into Vince's eyes, holding up a tiny silver ring between his thumb and forefinger.

"'Course you berk," he grinned.

A resounding cheer broke the otherwise silence of the room and everything flooded back. Howard blinked and then flushed bright red. Vince laughed. Everyone was cheering and clapping and then Vince looked at Howard, met those tiny brown eyes and everything disappeared again and they were the only two people alive and he did the one thing he could think of.

He kissed his great Northern Berk.

*~*~*

**_AN: XD, THEY'RE GETTING MARRIED. EEEEE! Lol. *is pathetic* Chronological would be logical, i mean it's part of the word, but I dont feel like being logical. So I'm not sure which one will be up next, it's come as it goes, really. But there's a whole lot of 'first times' for me to play with. If you can think of one tell me in a review and you might find yourself with a story tailored to you! _**

**_The Captain_**


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